


Time and Again

by LaceFedora, Poplitealqueen, PunsBulletsAndPointyThings, the_dragongirl



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Audio Format: Streaming, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi-voice Podfic, Podfic, Podfic Length: 10-20 Minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9179905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaceFedora/pseuds/LaceFedora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poplitealqueen/pseuds/Poplitealqueen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings, https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dragongirl/pseuds/the_dragongirl
Summary: Baze will always remain by Chirrut's side.Moments, from a life together.A podfic and fic collaboration.





	

Cover Art by LaceFedora.

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## Streaming Audio

Story

Bloopers

## Downloads

  * [Story, MP3, via Paraka Productions ](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Time%20and%20Again%20by%20LaceFedora.mp3) | **Size:** 24 MB | **Duration:** 00:16:37
  * [Bloopers, MP3, via Paraka Productions ](http://the-dragongirl.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Star%20Wars/Time%20and%20Again%20Bloopers.mp3) | **Size:** 16 MB | **Duration:** 00:11:41



## Music

**Peaceful Theme - Xun** by ElfShadow, from Medal.  
  
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The first time he meets Baze Malbus he’s eight years old and immediately drawn to him in the Force. His presence has a certain feeling, something pleasant, yet almost sad. It’s his new favorite feeling and Chirrut wonders if the sensation is what art feels like for other people. He runs closer to the sensation. He doesn’t need his stick here; he knows every inch of Temple.

“Who are you?” he asks him, stopping just a few steps from the presence. “I’m Chirrut. Did you come here on a pilgrimage?”

At first he gets no reply and he’s come to expect that; people are usually surprised by his eyes at first. Then he hears the other shift.

“I’m Baze… and no. I live in NiJedha,” he says and Chirrut smiles. He likes his voice. He comes over to sit beside him, touching Baze’s shoulder to orient himself before dropping down. “My parents told me not to come here, that only Jedi and Mystics come here… but no one stopped me when I walked passed the gate.”

“Why would anyone stop you?” Chirrut asks him. “This is a Temple. People come here for guidance. Besides, I think you belong here,” he tells him firmly, and he can almost sense Baze’s surprise.

“Belong here? Why do you say that?” he asks him.

“You’re here because the Force wills it,” Chirrut says and he’s absolutely certain of it. Baze seems to like that answer; he brightens in the Force. “I’m training to be a Guardian here. You should be one too.”

“I can’t be a Guardian… I can’t feel the Force.” Baze insists.

“I think you can. It’s in everyone… but even if you can’t. I can’t see and they’re still letting me be a Guardian. Why not you?”

* * *

The first time Baze knows he loves Chirrut, he runs. They’re fifteen years old, in that brief space between their name days where they share the same age, and Chirrut has just broken the nose of a would-be bandit with his staff. Baze can't stop thinking how beautiful he is when he fights. He lets Chirrut handle the bandits, then he runs out the gates and deep into the heart of Jedha City.

It’s only about three hours before Chirrut finds him.

Chirrut could always find him. He says they have a connection in the Force. More and more Baze can feel it too. His sense of the Force is more when his friend is near. Chirrut sits silently beside him, the people passing them on the street, waiting for Baze to explain.

They are not Jedi. Love is not forbidden. But it is frowned upon. Duty comes first. Chirrut is the troublemaker. He’s used to being frowned at. In fact he seems to delight in provoking that very reaction from the Shamans and Guardians alike. Baze usually only makes trouble with Chirrut. Not trouble for him. This… would be very different territory. To Baze, Chirrut always comes first.

“Maybe I should leave the Guardianship. I could get good work,” he says slowly, then looks over at Chirrut. His friend is frowning, unhappy.

“You must follow your own path,” he says, “but-” He starts then stops and bites his lip.

“But, what?” Baze asks him, then watches Chirrut as he leans close, pressing his shoulder to Baze’s and getting right into his space.

“I just thought that your path was going to be with me. I always want you beside me,” he says.

“As the Force wills it?” Baze asks, echoing Chirrut’s favorite phrase.

“No… as I want it,” he says and closes the distance between them, somehow unerringly finding Baze’s mouth. Baze has never felt more connected to the Force than the moment their lips touch. He knows he belongs right here.

* * *

When Baze’s faith is shattered, Baze is thirty-four and Chirrut is thirty three.  Everything changes. The Clone War has waged three years and Jedha was hardly untouched, but it seems even more people came to Jedha because of it. Seeking answers in the holy city.

Anyone who can feel the Force is nearly crippled by the first wave of attacks on the Jedi. The Temple of the Whills tries to teach you to embrace all aspects of the Force. They’ve had many arguments with the Jedi but that doesn’t mean the deaths of so many Force users doesn’t create a literal wound in the Force. It nearly knocks Baze on his ass when it happens. And it quite literally knocks Chirrut unconscious. Baze just barely manages to catch him before he hits the ground.

They can’t tell what is is exactly. There are few clone troops on Jedha. The Guardians were deemed ‘adequate’ protection for the Kyber crystals by the Jedi. They’d had a long laugh about it at the time. The Jedi were always so caught up in themselves.

But that doesn’t mean they deserved something like this.

Death. Death is all Baze can feel, hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives snuffed out in an instant. The Force almost creates a vacuum, sucking and pulling at the surviving users. It’s incredibly painful. Before he realizes it he’s pulling Chirrut close against his chest, curling around his prone form like he can protect him from the pain. He doesn’t see it happen but it rocks through the Force and through it’s users in the temple. Shamans and Guardians feel the Jedi’s pain. It passes in it’s own time but when it does, the Galaxy is changed.

Throughout the City there are whispers of the Jedi uprising. Of how the Republic had become the Empire. The Jedi and any known associates are to be hunted down. The Temple of the Whills has had many disagreements with the Jedi, but they know lies when they hear them. The Jedi attempting to overthrow the Republic that it has served for thousands of years? Unlikely. They’ve been eliminated. Exterminated.

Still, for a few days, life continues. Some leave, forsake life at the Temple. Some seem more determined than ever to protect the Whills, and the Kyber. Baze isn’t sure what to do. So, for now, he does as Chirrut does. He tries to help however he can. Chirrut can’t sit still in times like this. He prefers to be busy.

They’re outside of NiJedha when it happens; a few clicks away at a neighboring city, bringing some much needed supplies. Jehda is off the beaten path of trade routes. Even with the war supposedly over, not much more than NiJedha gets the supplies it needs.

On their return journey Baze looks toward NiJedha and sees smoke.

“Chirrut, get up,” he says and then hauls Chirrut to his feet. He sees him blink but ready himself.

“We need to run,” he tells him.

“Why? What do you see, Baze?” Chirrut asks him, his hand tight around his staff.

“I think the temple is burning,” Baze says, looking at the plumes of smoke and figuring out where they are in the city.

By the time they arrive it’s too late. The Shamans and their fellow Guardians are dead. They hadn’t felt the sting the way they had at the rise of the Empire because the pain since then has just been steady. Small spikes haven’t been uncommon. They are being called the Jedi Purges.

Baze can’t take his eyes off the carnage. The Force hadn’t warned them. They hadn’t had time or foresight to run. They are just… dead. Among them he can see a few that don’t belong… Jedi being harbored by the Shamans. It looked like they tried to help. I is probably them that has given the Empire the excuse it needed.

He grabs Chirrut before he can walk into one of the bodies. Chirrut can’t see them but he can smell the burning flesh and ruins. He can feel their absence in the Force.

“I’m one with the Force. The Force is with me,” Chirrut mutters over and over until it’s a prayer. Baze grips Chirrut more tightly and tries to find it in him to pray for them. He can’t. The Force let this happen. It’s taken everything from them. It didn’t even let them remain and fight with their comrades.

“We have to go,” Baze says, feeling rage coil in him. It settles just beneath his chest, and Baze knows he’ll never be rid of the feeling again. This rage will never let him go. Chirrut refuses to be budged, still praying.

“The Force will protect us,” Chirrut insists when Baze pulls him, though tears are streaming down his face. Baze stops pulling and let’s go of him suddenly, the anger in him reaching up and lashing out.

“Like it protected them!?” Baze shouts back at him, pointing at the death and fire he knows the other cannot see. That isn’t the point. “They’re dead, Chirrut. All of them! We are all that is left! The Force has abandoned us all!” He regrets it as soon as it comes out if his mouth. Not for what he said - he believes it - but for the stricken look it puts on Chirrut’s already crumpled face. He grits his teeth and then comes toward him taking his hands in his.

“We have to leave, Chirrut. We cannot protect the crystals by ourselves. There is nothing left for us here.”

“This is our home.” Chirrut says quietly but he’s letting Baze lead him away now, his steps slow, trusting Baze to guide him. There was so much debris… so much death.

“Not anymore,” Baze says. “This is a tomb. And we are still alive. I would like us both to remain that way. Living at a temple while Jedi are being purged across the galaxy is not a good way to stay alive.”

“What will we do?” Chirrut asks him.

“I think I will find work that lets me kill them,” Baze says flatly. He knows Chirrut will know who he means. “Everyone I can get my hands on.”

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” Chirrut points out, but his voice is soft. He already knows how Baze will answer.

“Then it is a good thing we were never Jedi. My anger is righteous. If your Force wants to argue with that then it can channel it through all it’s dead Shamans in the courtyard.”

“Our Force, but I do not want to argue with that,” Chirrut insists, then takes Baze’s hands in his, holding on tightly. “I am with you. Always.” Baze leans in close, pressing his forehead to Chirrut’s and taking a steadying breath. He still has the one person most important to him. It is something. He kisses him once briefly and they leave the Temple behind.

* * *

By the time they’re fifty-three and fifty-two, Baze has taken on a different title. Chirrut doesn’t like it much. He feels ‘Assassin’ and ‘Baze Malbus’ don’t belong together in the same sentence. Baze is a protector, and always has been. He respects his love’s choices though and only brings it up when they’re both agitated.

There was little they could do in the end to stop the Empire from moving in from taking their sacred crystals and using them as fuel for their machines. They are just two men.

He and Baze have been waiting. Chirrut doesn’t think Baze realizes that’s what they’re doing, but it’s true. They’ve been waiting for years. It’s almost here though. He can feel the anticipation building under his skin, the Force buzzing with it’s particular energy.

He convinces Baze that they can stay in that morning, not do their rounds around the city until later. The people of NiJedha still need protection, from both the Imperials and Saw Gerrera’s growing rebel faction. He kisses him slowly, burying his fingers in Baze’s long hair (so much longer than it had been when they were Guardians. He loves the texture of it.). Baze seems to sense his need for a slow morning and takes it upon himself to take him apart, inch by inch.

In the market that day Chirrut senses the low resonance of a Kyber crystal, and he senses someone with a greater destiny. He tells her a bit about Kyber and then follows her Force signature. He knows without doubt Baze will only ever be a half step behind him. This is what they’ve been waiting for.

 


End file.
